


A small sword

by Demosnio



Category: World of Warcraft
Genre: Anxiety, Attack, Escape, Mother-Son Relationship, Other, Scourge, Undead, Worry, mother - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-01
Updated: 2020-12-01
Packaged: 2021-03-10 00:48:44
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 583
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27825559
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Demosnio/pseuds/Demosnio
Summary: As the Scourge is unleashed over the lands of Azeroth once more, Kranna Ravenheart makes a desperate attempt at saving her son.
Relationships: Mother-Son
Kudos: 1





	A small sword

“Rogan!”  
Kranna slams the wooden door open, splinters darting away from the frame as she steps in.  
“ROGAN!”  
She cries again, the urgency in her voice giving the child’s name an unusual rough sound. Dropping her shield on a nearby table, she swiftly closes the distance from the entrance to the small yard that serves as a home-forge. The youngling’s eyes shine, full of pride and accomplishment as he holds a small wooden sword, held together by two strips of leather and a single, out of shape nail. “Look mama!!! I made a sword!”. The child’s smile vanishes as he sees the fear in her mother’s face.  
She quickly grabs his hand and pulls towards the entrance of the small stone hut, rushing outside while picking up the shield on the way out. “Quick, son. We need to make it to the rear-gate”.  
Rogan runs as fast as his short legs let him, holding onto his mother’s hand, panting and trying to speak at the same time. “Mama!”. Kranna keeps her pace, constantly looking back at the Valley of Honor, knowing that soon enough the tide of undeath will rush over all of Orgrimmar.

“Mama!”- the orcling trips, trying to keep the pace, being dragged a couple of feet by an increasingly concerned Kranna. “MAMA!”- he shouts, struggling to keep up. Kranna stops, her features softening as she kneels down for a second, an armoured hand grazing her son’s wet cheeks. She briefly hugs him and picks him up, resuming the race towards Orgrimmar’s northern gate. “You will be safe, my child. I promise. You will be safe and I will come to you as soon as I can. Be brave, my soldier”, she whispers as she makes her way to the exit. A chill grows in the air, unusual for the dusty, parched roads of hot Durotar. A stench of putrefaction coming soon after. The shrieking and howling of the undead can be heard behind, chilling Kranna’s spine and giving her more determination to reach the escape point. She presses the head of her boy against her, positioning herself as a shield if needed. Rogan clutches his sword as he pushes his cheek against the cold metal plate of his mother’s armour. “You’ll be safe, you’ll be safe”- she mutters as she runs towards the wind-rider stationed some yards behind the gates. A slim figure awaits, already mounted, keeping the wyvern as still as possible and making sure they are in range and ready to take flight. 

But the Scourge are fast. Kranna can feel them behind, raking the stone on the streets with their malformed claws, getting closer and closer, destroying everything in their wake. “You’ll be safe, son, you’ll be safe”, she keeps saying, more to herself than the child, to keep focused and not let go of the terror she feels inside. The wyvern moves forward, strong flaps creating a breeze that hits Kranna in the face, as she sees it elevate over her head. “You’ll be safe”. She kisses her son’s head and stomping on the ground halts her frantic advance. Looking up, she calls to the rogue mounting the wind-rider. “GRIDEL! NOW!” and flings her son towards the wyvern, making sure he is caught in time. “GO! GO NOW!” she shouts as her eyes burn with tears, unsheathing her sword, ready to face the horde of ghouls catching up to her. 

“MAMA!” she hears, fading in the air, as a small wooden sword falls to her feet.


End file.
